


Together Flow With The Winds

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alien Planet, Canon Compliant, Cold Weather, Eventual Romance, Exploration, F/M, Huddling For Warmth, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Pre-Relationship, Romantic Fluff, shipwrecked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 21:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6442078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though it's been quite awhile since they were stranded, Tap-Out still struggles to cope with the cold on Akalo. Fortunately Glyph has a solution which has been there for him all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together Flow With The Winds

**Author's Note:**

> Wow...you know a ship is underrated when yours is the only fanfiction for it O_o In any case, I hope you enjoy!

Of all things Tap-Out had found hard to accept about Akalo, it was the cold.

The entire planet was covered in forestlands and, obviously, they had some kind of water source to nourish them. This meant mist and mud and overflowing rivers, all of which contributed to Tap-Out’s poor mood. Glyph, of course, was fascinated with the organic surroundings and how they worked; if there was a puddle in front of her—and more often than not, there was—she would drop and stick her hands and feet in it. Tap-Out did his best to advise her away from them, reminding her many times that her armor would corrode, but she didn’t care. It was for science.

Everything was for science with her. Somehow she had adjusted to being stranded here, taking it as something good! Tap-Out simply couldn’t understand that. In his opinion, they’d been here a few diuns too long and he was _this_ close to wishing he had never taken the assignment. Then he’d see Glyph balancing on a wobbly rock or preparing to wade through some dubious river and he’d chastise himself.

If he didn’t look after her, who would?

Even so, it was the cold that got to him most. Since his rescue from the Pits of Polyhex, his recharge had been fitful at best; no passage of time would make the burden of what he’d done there any lighter. Now he could barely recharge at all, curling as tightly into himself as he could and grumbling softly into the organic blankets the Akalouthans had given to him. They smelled strange, but he wouldn’t give them up. They were his only protection against the stinging air pressing in around him.

When his shuddering finally became vicious, he lurched onto tingly numb feet and jerked three of the blankets around his frame, shuffling outside. The whole fraggin’ _planet_ was cold, so it wouldn’t make much of a difference where he was.

The stone ground grated on Tap-Out’s feet as he walked and he kicked at it, scuffing his heelstruts. The Akalouthans’ city was very quiet at night, he realized again. It was unlike anything he had lived with before and frankly it was unnerving. He missed the vibrations of the ship, filling the silence of space as they traveled, and the bustle of Cybertron before that. He missed the _warmth_.

Tap-Out jolted out of his nostalgia as he stumbled, flailing his arms out for balance so he didn’t fall down the long staircase he was passing. His joints were locking up, he realized as he straightened and his backstrut ached. That was just perfect. Cautiously he glanced around, wondering if anyone had seen him falter, and found the scenery just as still as before. Ex-venting slowly, he sank down on the top step, unsurprised when the stone was icy underneath him.

He was surprised, however, when he sensed a presence looming behind him. He tried to jerk around and look, but his shoulders simply squeaked and he shivered again. Glyph made no comment about it as she settled beside him.

“Good evening,” Glyph said politely. Why she insisted on being so formal, Tap-Out didn’t know, but he jerked a wordless nod in response which seemed to satisfy her as a greeting. “I didn’t expect you to be out on a walk.”

“The room was cold,” he said bluntly. “I didn’t want to s-stay there.”

“Ahh, yes, I’ve noticed that. All of the lodgings were made to accommodate the citizens, whose body temperatures are at least four degrees warmer than ours. They’re much more efficient at regulating their temperatures than we are,” Glyph explained, not that Tap-Out was too interested.

Contrarily, he liked to hear her talk. Her vocals rolled easily on the audials, rounded out with the slightest of accents, which distracted him from the words themselves. Even if he had been paying close attention, he probably wouldn’t have understood and he’d accepted that at the very beginning.

In any case, he hoped she didn’t expect an answer to what she’d said. The wind had just kicked up and he was focusing on refolding his blankets. He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering as another shiver rippled through him, but not even the swaddling could hide it from the femme’s sharp optics.

“I’m a bit concerned about how you’re handling this cold spell,” she ventured. His systems hissed in response, a bit disjointedly, and he shuffled numb legs, angling himself away from her.

“Glyph, it’s fine. I’m f-fine,” he announced unconvincingly, hoping futilely that she would simply let it go on his word.

“Really,” she chided, leaning forward to recapture his gaze. “Your optics are pale.”

She noticed a lot more than that, though she didn’t go on to point them out: his faceplates were drawn, angles sharpened with stress and lack of recharge, his lips pressed into a thin line. If she squinted past the blankets, she could see his vents flaring, trying to retain more air, and his vocals were crackling with a chilly stutter.

“Come with me,” she urged at last, grasping his arm and pulling him upright before he could recoil, guiding him down the staircase. If he had memorized the schematics of the city, as she had, he would have known that this path led to the warmest place in the city.

She glanced at Tap-Out to witness his reaction when he realized where she was leading him. He squinted slightly in the bright light, half-sparkedly lifting a hand to shield his optics and then giving up. “They don’t want that touched,” he stated flatly.

“No, but that doesn’t mean we can’t sit near it,” she countered, pulling him closer and ignoring how he dug in his heelstruts against it. She settled as close to the Divine Light as she dared and gestured for him to sit next to her, which he reluctantly did. She had a feeling it was only so he could make sure she didn’t venture closer than was safe, but if that was what it took, she was alright with that.

“Isn’t this better?” she questioned hopefully, holding out her hands and feeling the Light’s warmth tingle through her frame. Hesitantly Tap-Out followed her example, reaching for the source of warmth.

“Yeah,” he admitted after a pause. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. Um…thanks for the suggestion.”

“It’s my duty to advise,” she reminded him, internals wincing at how stuffy she sounded, like she considered him a duty just as much as he no doubt considered her. Fortunately he didn’t seem offended, drawing his knees to his chest and stretching his hands out further. Glyph studied them intently; her _first_ intention was to gauge the Light’s temperature by how quickly his hands would stop trembling, but her second thought took up more of her attention.

For a fighter, he had lovely hands. They were shapely, not at all disproportionate as mech hands so often were, equipped with long, elegant, capable fingers…

 _Please_ , she chided herself, grimacing behind her facemask as she forced her attention back to his wellbeing. Over the course of several minutes, the stiffness of his frame had started to ease. Deciding it was taking just a bit too long for her taste, Glyph scooted a bit closer, hoping her warmth would help along the process. She sensed his EM field fluctuating around hers, puzzled by what she’d just done, and she quickly checked herself to make sure her own field was level. She didn’t intend to project her musings on him, but she felt…bound to say something so there was a suitable distance between them.

 **::Ēon iuow feldurn finpere?::** she questioned.

Frankly Glyph was surprised but certainly pleased when Tap-Out didn’t startle at the use of their home Tongue. In fact, he barely moved, aside from his arms falling slowly back to his sides as his systems started giving into exhaustion.

 **::Gīrmse,::** he murmured, hiding most of his face from view against his knees. His optics flickered closed and his vents evened out, giving Glyph a nice tingle of triumph. In her opinion, Tap-Out didn’t get nearly enough recharge. Her satisfaction with her success faltered slightly when she felt a gentle shift of weight as the mech relaxed closer to her. Keeping her frame very stiff and still, Glyph considered how vulnerable he was letting himself become, unconsciously or otherwise.

Retracting her facemask was instinctive and she wasn’t sure why she let it happen, but her visor followed a few kliks later. The absence of the protection was tangible, but it seemed right, at least until he woke. If her guard felt safe enough to be open this way, so could she.

If something like this happened again, she might get up the courage to hold his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> ::Ēon iuow feldurn finpere?:: - "Are you feeling better/recovering?"  
> ::Gīrmse.:: - "Yes/Certainly."
> 
> Frag it, I know I've never written them before, _but I love this ship_.  <3


End file.
